While they were gone, I went into the garage.
Most of my belongings were still in boxes from after the divorce. I hadn’t had the energy to sort through them before.
I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for. I just started opening boxes.
Clothes. Old toys. Small appliances.
Then I found the first thing that didn’t make sense.
A notice from Jonathan’s school about a parent meeting I had supposedly missed. But I had never seen it.
I kept going.
More documents.
Bills in my name I didn’t recognize.
Notes from teachers asking why I hadn’t replied.
Printed emails I had never received.
I sat on the concrete floor, papers spread around me.
